


bird is the word

by circumlocute



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Cloaca, Developing Relationship, Dysphoria, Established Relationship, M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Praise Kink, Self-cest, Threesome - M/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, of a sort I suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circumlocute/pseuds/circumlocute
Summary: Davesprite finally works up the nerve to ask Dave for help figuring out if he can still get off. Dave says yes, as long as his boyfriend can come along for the ride.





	bird is the word

**Author's Note:**

> Davesprite deserves to be the filling in a Davekat sandwich. These are true facts.  
> The birdy bits are perhaps not as accurately birdy as they could have been, but sacrifices have been made for the sake of narrative coherency. Also because it's fun. Okay, mostly the second one.

TG: hey

TG: hey

TG: can i ask you a favor

TG: one dave to another or whatever

TG: yeah dude shoot 

TG: ok well

TG: stop me if this is too weird

TG: i think weve already kind of crossed the weirdness event horizon just by virtue of our mutual existence bro

TG: swirling particles of weirdness in the void never to return

TG: but sure

TG: stfu

TG: trust me were just barely circling the outer rim of the black hole of weirdness im about to suck us both into

TG: davesprite why didnt you warn me this is so fucking weird you cry before it rends you into a thousand tiny shards of bizarre bs

TG: i tried i whisper

TG: i fucking tried

TG: ok now who needs to stfu 

TG: come on how weird can it be were working from the same baseline itd be pretty hard to freak me out

TG: you say that now

TG: just remember dude you asked for this

TG: i literally did

TG: go on then youve got me all curious now

TG: ok so like

TG: god this is so fucking awkward

TG: a mans got needs right even if that man happens to be part bird

TG: i mean id assume so yeah sure

TG: cant say ive ever been part bird

TG: you assume correctly

TG: and during the game and shit it wasnt an issue cause i literally didnt have the equipment or the drive

TG: prolly cause the game didnt want its helpful guide™ spending all his time slapping the salami instead of dispensing cheatcodes or w/e

TG: but anyway

TG: were not in the game and ive got myself a shiny new pair of legs

TG: i noticed yeah

TG: did you message me just to tell me you rediscovered the joys of masturbation because dude youre great and all but there are some things you dont need to announce

TG: no!

TG: thats kind of the problem actually

TG: i cant

TG: did they forget to give you your schlong back from the void or like

TG: why not

TG: no ive got like

TG: parts or whatever

TG: but its the wrong fucking set i mustve been prototyped with a girl crow or something

TG: i went to piss the first time and it was some sort of freaky birdgina

TG: holy shit dude

TG: yeah

TG: and like im trying to make up for lost time but i cant like

TG: i keep psyching myself out before i can get to the blast zone

TG: thats the saddest thing ive ever heard

TG: yeah yeah yuck it up im sure its fucking hilarious

TG: dude no im serious

TG: ok maybe i was being a little facetious but that does genuinely sound fucking shitty

TG: not to be like a huge dick i swear im not trying to be but did you just want to vent or did you like

TG: want me to do something to help

TG: and if so what im a little out of my depth here if you havent noticed

TG: ugh idk this is fucking stupid

TG: i messaged you thinking like

TG: well lbr i wasnt thinking

TG: but it was kind of like ‘well i cant get myself off maybe someone else can and i bet it would be less weird if i asked dave about this’

TG: unfortunately not only is it weird its super extra mega deluxe grande weird with fries on the side

TG: hey now hold the fries

TG: lemme get this clear before we nix the whole thing right out the gate

TG: you want me to aid you on your bonerquest

TG: i did but i just said i realized how fucking creepy it was to ask you dont need to drag it out

TG: its not creepy 

TG: not that im an expert in birdfucking but i never said i was opposed to helping a bro out

TG: you

TG: what

TG: if you need dr dave to give you a dose of that d and help you out with a little sexual healing

TG: im game

TG: but only if im correctly picking up what youre putting down

TG: i mean i was kind of expecting you to run away screaming but shit

TG: id kind of like to see if i can get off without having a fucking nuclear brain meltdown yeah

TG: sweet

TG: one sec

TG: dude are you for real right now

TG: you cant leave a lady hanging like that ill get the vapors

TG: seriously where are you

TG: dave

TG: oh my fucking god

TG: for a god of timing yours sure is awful

TG: chill ds i was consulting with the old ball and chain

TG: dude what the actual hell

TG: you told karkat about my fucking dick problem?

TG: i told karkat you might want to get nasty with me because karkat is my boyfriend and as such he gets veto power over who i take to bed yes

TG: were a democracy i didnt want to get your hopes up only to find out karkat wasnt cool with it

TG: but hes super cool with it hes just got one condition

TG: shit

TG: does he want a dowry i promise ill bring only the fattest cows

TG: youre worth like what? three cows?

TG: i swear ill make an honest man out of you

TG: with these cows

TG: are you suggesting i fuck your dowry cows davesprite

TG: well hey if thats what gets you going dont let me kinkshame you

TG: whats the condition

TG: karkat wants to watch

TG: WHAT

TG: i thought hed want to chase me off with a broom not

TG: this

TG: he just wants to watch?

TG: i mean hes not opposed to getting involved if youre not opposed to him getting involved but like

TG: yeah dude he likes watching

TG: the mans a freak in the sack 

TG: i

TG: ok yeah lets do it

TG: youre cool with it?

TG: im chiller than frosty the snowmans crystalline taint

 

* * *

 

You are maybe a couple degrees warmer than snowman taint, but it’s not because of Dave. Or Karkat. They’ve been doing their level fucking best to communicate clearly about this, and have given you ample opportunities to back out. You’re just. Maybe a little worried. That _they’re_ going to want to back out, once they see what equipment you’ve actually got going on.

You did a little cursory googling, when you could stomach it, just so you knew what the fuck was going on down there. It is, apparently, a cloaca. You’re not sure if it was actually a girl crow or not, since they apparently all have them, and you’re not sure how to find out, but the point of the thing is. Is this. You have an all-purpose birdhole between your legs, instead of your two-foot-long salami prong, and it’s a little goddamn weird!

But you _also_ haven’t managed to jack off since before you were prototyped, and you’re pretty sure you’re going nuts. You’ve humped pillows and shit when you were feeling particularly desperate and pathetic, but it’s not _enough._ And every time you get your hands down there you just...you have no fucking clue what to do with the mystery zone between your legs. This is not the dick you are looking for. And when you think too hard about it, it ends up being _all_ you can think about, and that’s not actually conducive to getting your rocks off.

Enter Dave. He’s, like. He’s got your face and your former dick, and you’re hoping enough of your personality that he’ll know how to get you past the freakout line and into the endzone. Not to mention you trust Dave, more than you’d trust probably anyone else with this. So hopefully he can get you out of your head enough to make this work, and maybe get you on track to actually being able to jack it. Jokes about selfcest being masturbation aside.

Karkat’s...kind of a wildcard in this, but he’s not going to get involved beyond watching unless you want him to. And you’re not gonna deny it, he’s pretty fucking cute. Dave has good taste, which, of course he does. Karkat is cute and thinks you’re cute enough to want to watch you (attempt to) fuck. Hopefully. He’s got to be used to weird junk though, right, being an alien and all?

Or maybe Dave’s mammal bits were maximum weird and this is gonna send him straight to nopesville. Maybe Dave himself won’t be able to handle whatever shit you’ve got going on, when you’re wearing his face. God.

This shit is why you’ve been standing on their doorstep for way too long, stalling. They _said_ they’d be into it, but they don’t even know what _it_ is yet. How can you know that they won’t—

Dave opens the door before you can work up the nerve to knock and looks out at you from the threshold. “Oh, shit, hey dude. I was wondering where you were. I was just about to call you, but then I was like, maybe I’ll check and see if he’s outside, and you were. So, uh, here we are.”

“Oh. Hey.” Your feathers definitely don’t fluff up at all in surprise. He seems a little nervous too, which is...weirdly reassuring. You resettle your wings against your back and follow Dave inside when he makes a sweeping gesture towards his living room.

Their house is...normal, which might be the weirdest thing about it. It’s messy, but not dirty. Lived-in. That’s definitely Karkat’s doing, unless Dave suddenly learned how to stop leaving a trail of snack wrappers behind him. (If he did, you’re gonna need to find out what his secret is). You sit on the couch and glance around while Dave goes to putter in the kitchen, mumbling something about refreshments. You’ve been here before, fucking obviously, but it’s still weird seeing what kind of shit you’d be into, if your circumstances were a little different. Funhouse mirror and all that.

There’s a stack of DVDs in front of the television, and a shelf with even more movies next to it. The couch has custom Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff throw pillows, complete with janky artifacting. They’re the ugliest things you’ve ever fucking seen, you kind of love it? In the corner, a sad little plant is drooping. You silently commend it for surviving Dave’s black thumb this long. Jade will probably sense a disturbance in the force and rescue it soon enough. On the coffee table, there’s some sort of manuscript, liberally annotated with capslock and red pen. You valiantly resist the urge to snoop.

Upstairs, you hear the sound of a door shutting. You hear Karkat before you see him, which will probably never stop being kind of novel.

“Dave, you bastard!” Karkat shouts, before you hear him heading down the stairs in a rapid thumpthumpthump. “You didn’t tell me Davesprite was already here!”

Dave emerges from the kitchen, juggling two glasses of apple juice and a mug of what looks like cocoa. “Babe, hold your hoofbeasts, I was busy being a good hostess. I was gonna text you in a second.”

“Well shit, we all know Striders have only the most refined and finicky tastes, this was definitely mission-critical.” Karkat’s voice lowers to his normal shouting volume. “Hey, Davesprite. I hope he didn’t hide in the mealblock too long.”

“Nah,” you say, spreading your wings out against the couch in what you hope is a casual sprawl. “I just got here, it’s all good.”

“Well, good.” Karkat curls up in an armchair so overstuffed you’re surprised it hasn’t burst in a gruesome explosion of polyfill yet, and eyes the hot cocoa in Dave’s hand. “Is that for me?”

“Well, it was, until you went and mocked my righteous hosting skills…” Dave hands the cocoa off to Karkat anyway, expression so openly fond you feel a little bit like you’re intruding. Before you have a chance to say this was a mistake and leave, though, he turns to you.

“Is apple juice cool?”

“Bro.” You take a glass of juice and look up at him over your shades. “Apple juice is _always_ cool.”

“Hell yeah.” Dave clinks his glass against yours and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. Your voice is different from his, you note, not for the first time. It doesn’t stop from keep being weird. You’re a little hoarser, a little raspier, probably thanks to crows not exactly being the most melodious fuckers on earth.

“So how did we want to do this, exactly?” Karkat looks over at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Uh.

“Uh,” you say, “we find the nut button and smack it like a bazillion times.”

“Quest for the clitoris,” Dave says, “alright.”

You snort. You’re...reasonably sure you don’t have one of those, but fuck. Time to find out. Davesprite and the Hunt for the Bird Clitoris. Twitterous. That was terrible, actually; you scratch it from the record.

“And you wanted to like, watch, right?” You turn to Karkat.

He goes a weird ashy brick-red and makes a sort of chattering noise. “Yeah, I want to. But listen, if you don’t want to deal with me mouthbreathing in the corner while you two are enjoying yourselves, I’m not going to be an ass. Or like. More of an ass than usual. I don’t _have_ to watch, if that’s going to make you uncomfortable. And I don’t have to get involved, either. I’ll live without inserting myself bulge-first into every hookup my boyfriend has. Whatever you’re comfortable with, nothing else.”

Now it’s your turn to blush, agh. You hope they can’t see or don’t notice.

“Is it cool to ask, like, why exactly you want to tune into this particular channel?” It’s not like you’re a fantastic catch or anything. Especially not when Dave’s already here, doing the Dave thing, being better at it than you are in general. You are not fucking thinking about that, though. Not today, satan.

Karkat’s expression changes to something you can only describe as _constipated,_ and he turns to Dave. They communicate something entirely via eyebrows, and then Dave’s setting his glass down on the coffee table and turning to you. Here it comes, you asked The Forbidden Question and they realized boning you isn’t going to be worth dealing with your astounding lack of tact.

“Karkat’s into, like, uh.” Dave rubs the back of his neck. “The duality of it? I don’t totally get it, so I’m not gonna say I do, but he likes, um, you know. Selfcest stuff. That kind of shit.”

You...pause. Evaluate this for a second. You’re cool as a fucking cucumber, lava would freeze solid next to you, you’re. Fucking. Cool. You will not flip off the handle.

“So, haha, are y’all only cool with this so that I can help satisfy Karkat’s niche kink? Like, is that why I’m here?”

Dave goes carefully expressionless and Karkat looks like you hit him. Fucking...damn it, no, they only want you here because you’re just enough like Dave to get Karkat’s rocks off, you’re not going to feel guilty for calling them on it.

“That’s not what we meant,” Karkat says eventually. He’s chewing the inside of his lip and swirling his cocoa with a clawtip.

“Seriously dude, that’s not--fuck, we didn’t mean that at all, okay?” Dave sighs explosively and runs his fingers through his hair, fucking it up six ways to Sunday. After a second, he blurts, “I just--god dammit, does it make me a narcissist or a furry if I think you’re cute?”

Oh. You blink and raise your eyebrows. “Yes.”

Karkat glances back up. “Like I said, _I_ don’t have to be involved at all, if that’s what you want. Fuck, I’d be the last person to blame you for that. But I’m not interested in you just for the fucking kink potential, Davesprite. Give me a little more credit than that. Dave could fuck a timeclone if I was that desperate. We’re interested because you’re attractive and funny and not agonizing to be around, because hopefully you like being around us too, and because _ideally_ we can help get you off. If you still want.”

You swallow. You’re just trying to figure out what to say, is all, you’re definitely not getting a little choked up. Emotions. Nasty.

“Oh.” You resettle your wings against yourself. “Yeah, I’m still down to clown. Sorry for being a complete fucking ass about this, fuck, I just...Shit, you’re serious?”

Karkat nods.

“Serious as the black death, my dude,” Dave says.

“Well, in that case. You are _such_ a fucking narcissist,” you tell him, “and a furry. Gross.”

Then he’s climbing across the couch towards you, knees bumping against yours. He cups your jaw with one hand, fingers smoothing down the stray feathers in your sideburns, and pushes his shades up with the other. Your heart does this weird fluttery thing in your chest.

“Yiff yiff,” he says, in that weird drawl you used to do when you were trying to be seductive, and then he’s kissing you.

Dave tastes like apple juice, and like you, sort of, and you might maybe kind of a little bit get Karkat’s thing for selfcest, because that makes you groan. He’s also a really fucking good kisser, you note, as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. The teenage fooling around you did with Jade can’t match his obvious experience, holy shit. Are they both this good at it? Are you gonna get a chance to find out?

Off to the side, Karkat’s making what sounds like a _very_ enthusiastic rattling noise, just close enough to familiar that you nearly make an embarrassing noise in response. You flail your hands around uselessly for a second before deciding to put them on Dave’s shoulders.

Way too soon, Dave pulls back and looks at you. His lips are swollen and he’s breathing a little heavier, hell yeah. You did that. _You’re_ turning him on, not just the other way around, this is reciprocal. Like they said.

“Is this okay?” Dave asks, drumming the fingers of one hand on his knee.

“The only thing that isn’t okay,” you say, and silently congratulate yourself for keeping any ridiculous squawking sounds out of your voice, “is that you stopped.”

“Aw yeah.” Dave grins and leans back in. “The hunt for the nut button is on.”

You push your shades out of the way as well, and close the last bit of distance between the two of you. Your teeth click, but Dave doesn’t seem to mind all that much, thank fuck. He licks his way into your mouth, one hand coming up to the back of your head, and sucks on your tongue. A rattle escapes your throat unbidden, but before you can pull back and apologize for sounding so fucking weird, Dave makes an appreciative hum and settles himself in your lap.

He’s kind of heavy, at least in comparison to your spindly birdy stick limbs, but it sparks a warm ache between your legs anyway. It feels...different, than it used to, but you think it’s good. Encouraged by his enthusiasm, you slide your hands down his back and and get a handful of ass.

Dave curses under his breath and rocks back against your hands. Hell yeah. You are the king of sex, it is you. Does this count as sex yet? Fuck, whatever.

Karkat clears his throat. Dave pulls back and you let him, reluctantly, both of you turning to look at Karkat. His face is red like _he’s_ the one who was getting kissed, and he just looks at you for a second before remembering he was going to say something. It’s doing things to your ego, that’s for damn sure.

“Unless you want to fuck on the couch,” Karkat says, “I suggest we take things to the respiteblock before they get much further.”

“What if I want to fuck on the couch,” you say, because you have no filter and you don’t really want to move.

Karkat raises one eyebrow. “The respiteblock has lube.”

Ah. That would...probably help things along, wouldn’t it. You can feel your cheeks heating up. Dave snickers quietly.

“...I see the merits of your argument.”

“Karkat’s good at compelling arguments.” Dave waggles his eyebrows. Huh, so that’s what you look like when you do that. “ _Sexy_ arguments, too. Although I guess lube isn’t inherently sexy, but the implications are kind of fun, does that still count? Karkat, does that count?”

“Here’s a compelling argument,” Karkat says, cocking his head towards the staircase. “Dave, stop crushing Davesprite under your ass. Upstairs, come on.”

Dave stops crushing you under his ass and stands up, extending a hand towards you to haul you to your feet. You _think_ you might see the outline of a lump in his pants. Fuck yeah.

There’s no way to make climbing stairs sexy that isn’t also ludicrously unsafe, but they both take one of your hands and it’s. Nice. Weird, because you kind of keep expecting them to forget you’re here or remember they like each other better, but it’s nice.

Dave opens the door to the bedroom and gestures in with a dramatic sweep. The bed is made--definitely Karkat’s doing--and the walls are covered in various movie posters. There’s a couple shelves lined with jarred dead things and fossils. Is that a rhinoceros beetle? You approve.

Dave flops down on the bed and sprawls in a ridiculous come-hither pose, making kissy lips at you. You snort and join him, flapping your wings a little behind you as you settle onto the mattress. You’d be perfectly happy to get right the hell back to kissing him with the knowledge that lube is now within your grasp, but there’s the little matter of the third person here, whose boyfriend you’re currently hogging.

You look over your shoulder at Karkat. “Did you want to get in on this?”

“I’m good for now.” He sits down in an armchair in the corner of the room, facing the bed. “That might be too many cookannibals in the mealblock right now, anyway. Seriously, just do your thing, I’ll be fine.”

It takes you a moment to run that idiom through what little you know of Alternian culture and turn it into something you can parse, but after that you nod. If he’s seriously down with this…

You lean over Dave, fanning your wings out, and a slow smile spreads across his face. He reaches back and digs his nails into the thick ruff of feathers between your shoulder blades, grinning wider when you groan approvingly. Part of you wants to go all tsundere on his ass, it’s not like I like that or anything, b-baka. Instead, you kiss him again. Kissing is good. More of that immediately.

You fold your wings against your back and shudder when Dave runs his fingers through them. The not-entirely-human part of your brain is paying attention now, telling you _hell yeah you’re about to get laid,_ and you’re finding it a little difficult to keep the weird noises out of your voice.

He moves his mouth down to your neck and jaw, and _hoooooooo oh lordy_ something is happening in the pants department. You’re reasonably certain you’re getting wet, which is, it’s weird, but it feels good at least. No nuclear boner meltdowns yet. You sigh and grind against Dave’s thigh. He moans back, quietly, and slides his hands down to your hips. You can feel his dick when he rocks against you. Yes. Hell yes. Hell. Fucking. Yes.

“Is that a sword in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” You pinch his nipple through his shirt, because you’re pretty sure the whole sex thing is supposed to be reciprocal, and Dave swears.

“You could grab it and find out,” he says against your neck, breathing hard. He bites you, just a hint of teeth, and you blurt an embarrassingly loud caw. You slap a hand over your mouth—fucking, really? Now? Now is when the weird bird noises decide it’s time to make themselves known?

“Was that a bad noise or a good noise?” Dave asks, after a moment. He’s looking at you quizzically, eyebrows creased with concern.

“It was a good noise in that I liked the shit you were doing,” you say, once you get over your mortification. “Bad noise because it’s possibly the least sexy thing that could come out of my throat at this particular moment in time. Or ever.”

Dave runs his hands over your back and across your wings. You shudder.

“I dunno, I liked it. Like, if those are the sounds you make when I’m doing shit right, hell fucking yeah, I want to hear that noise approximately one hundred percent of the time.” Dave kisses your jaw. “I’m dating a fucking bug, dude, I’ve been pavlov’d to hell and back. Weird sex noises are my jam.”

You glance at Karkat, who’s sitting with his chin in his hand, his eyes faintly luminescent in the dark of the room. He raises his eyebrows and makes a chattering noise. Alright, fair, point made. Dave sits up next to you and sort of hovers his hands by your sides.

“Is the boner train cleared to leave the station?” He asks. You make a show of glancing down between his legs, and he blushes.

“Gee, I dunno. That kinda depends.” You gesture to your own tragically flat crotch. “Only dick conductor here is you.”

“Real funny, asshole.” Dave takes his shades from where they’re resting in his hair and sets them on the nightstand next to the bed, so you do the same. Good plan. The shades are fucking priceless treasures. “I _meant_ are we clear for takeoff.”

“We’re super clear for takeoff.” You slide your hands down Dave’s chest. “We have. Lifdoff.”

He laughs, a little surprised if you’re any judge of Dave emotions, and stops doing the hover hands thing in favor of actually touching you. You lean in and try out kissing his neck like he was on you. Dave moans, reaching down to grab your ass. Your ass isn’t great, honestly; you’re pretty much a stick person from the hips down. You’re not sure if that’s because of the whole ‘former sprite tail’ thing or the ‘spindly bird anatomy’ thing. In contrast, Dave’s ass is, dare you say, approaching “plush.” That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy the way he’s getting handsy with you, though, hell nah. Just the opposite.

You push your hips into his hands and grind against his thigh. The denim of your jeans is just shy of too rough, but it’s still not enough, little jolts of sensation going up your spine. You swear and resign yourself to humping Dave’s leg like some kind of desperate...something, and suck on his neck. Dave makes a choked noise and lifts his leg to help you out, hands scrabbling along your back.

“Can this come off?” He tugs on the hem of your shirt. You lean back. Getting your shirt off is kind of a bitch, what with the giant fucking wings you have to fit through the cutout in the back, but...naked. Naked would be nice.

“Yours first,” you decide, pulling on the front of his shirt for emphasis.

He tugs it over his head, and you take your time getting an eyeful. It’s kind of surreal if you’re being completely honest, just different enough from your own body to ping you as strange. He has mostly the same scars as you, except for a couple he got at the end of the game and the big one down your middle. Weird. You’re broader chested than he is, so that you can, you know, support your fucking wings. But Dave’s bigger than you in general. You’re...you don’t want to say delicate, you’re not fucking fragile, but you’re slender and generally pretty lightweight. Dave does not have the benefits of hollow bones and an avian metabolism, and has gone soft around the middle. It’s kind of cute. You resist the urge to poke his muffin top.

He’s looking at you, eyebrows raised. “Rate the goods? Five out of five hats, yeah? I mean, I’m not a nubile young twink anymore, I’ll grant you that, but I hear the ‘dad bod’ is super in vogue right now.”

Weirdly, you’re kind of glad you’re not the only insecure one here. You make a show of looking him up and down and nodding approvingly.

“Hot,” you say, because it’s true. Guess Dave’s not the only narcissist. He’s still got you beat with the furry thing, though. Feathery? Whatever, he’s the one who wants to yiff you.

Dave grins. “Your turn.”

You nod. Your shirts have all been modified with a big oval hole in the middle of the back, for your wings to fit through. It’s better than just wearing the front of a shirt and having your back just...out there in the breeze, but it’s not the most convenient shit in the world for a strip tease. You pull your wings tight against your back, and reach behind yourself to pull the bottom of the shirt over them. Then you pull your arms through the sleeves and lift your shirt over your head, careful not to yank any of your feathers on the way.

When your head is clear from your shirt, Dave smiles at you and pets your leg soothingly. Both of you are insecure motherfuckers, jesus.

He whistles appreciatively and bites his bottom lip. “Dude.”

“Yeah?”

“Nothin’, just. You look hot as shit, if you were wondering. Can I touch your wings or would that be weird, like, petting someone’s fucking eyebrows during sexytimes. Unless you’re into eyebrow petting I guess. Dude, can I pet your metaphorical eyebrows?”

You make an approving rattling noise and spread your wings. No one ever said you weren’t helpful.

“You should pet them right now immediately, dude.”

Dave hauls you further into his lap, hooking his arms under yours and reaching back to card his fingers through your feathers. It’s nice, especially because the position gives Dave ample room to suck on your neck, but otherwise it’s a little awkward. And the birdy part of your brain is insisting you roll over for optimal petting and hopefully fucking.

“Ah, fuck, hang on, let me just…” You scoot out of Dave’s lap and lay down on your belly, fanning your wings across the mattress and giving Dave what you hope is a seductive look over your shoulder.

He’s gone red all the way down to his neck and the tips of his ears, so you count this as a win. He comes over to sit behind you, and when you not-so-subtly spread your legs he slots his knee between them, gives you something to rock against. You haul a pillow over to rest your head on and look at him.

Dave’s looking at you like you’re a puzzle, but you know exactly how tactile you both are, so it’s not long before he touches you. He starts by gently running his hands down your back, tracing his fingers along the scattered feathers that trail down your spine. You definitely don’t whine.

“How’s my driving?” Dave asks, trailing his hands along your ribs.

“Mm. Could be better,” you say, “My wings, man, just fucking—get in there, I can’t reach, ah, yes, like that. God, yes. Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” It’s a balm to your ego that Dave sounds almost as affected as you do.

He digs his fingers in where you can’t reach, stroking your feathers smooth and scratching itches you didn’t know were there. It feels stupidly fucking good, and before long you’re muffling noises in the pillow and grinding against Dave’s knee as best you can with this angle. You can feel his dick pressing against your leg, warm and solid even through his pants, and then he starts rocking against you. You’re dry humping each other through four layers of clothes and you almost don’t care enough to stop, it feels so good.

You want...you’re not sure what you want, actually, your instincts are a tangled ball of “what the fuck” in this department. But you at least know you wanna see Dave’s dick before you both cream your pants like teenagers. You roll over abruptly, narrowly avoiding smacking Dave in the face with a wing.

“Pants, off, now.” You are so fucking eloquent. Four for you.

“Great idea,” Dave says.

You reach for his jeans and undo the button. He pulls them down his hips before you can even finish unzipping them, and then it’s just his Limited Edition Sweet Bro Briefs™ between you and his dick. It’s straining against the fabric, and there’s a noticeable wet spot. You lick your lips.

“Hope you took good care of the little guy in my absence,” you say, because you are a one man boner kill.

Dave snorts and hooks his thumbs into the waistband. “Only the best for our dong, I swear.”

He pulls off his underwear, his dick springing free with a hilarious bounce, and scoots back off your legs so he can take them the rest of the way off.

And then it’s your turn. Mm. You lift your hips and help Dave get your pants off, and definitely don’t close your eyes when he tugs down your boxers. Here comes the big reveal, Davesprite’s freaky bird crotch, just out here in the open. Behold the clusterfuck that is your anatomy. Dave’s being...concerningly quiet, so you work up the nerve to crack open one eye and peek at him.

He’s staring at you, face flushed and mouth slightly parted. When he notices you looking, he rubs the insides of your thighs soothingly and grins a little. You were expecting running and screaming, so that’s...huh. Neat. You smile back.

“Can I touch?” Dave asks, glancing down between your legs at what you have dubbed the ‘what the fuck’ zone. “‘Cause, not gonna lie, I really want to touch.”

“Unless you plan to get me off with your mind, I think you probably need to touch.” You snort and prop yourself up on your elbows so you’re not crushing your wings. (And so you can see better, maybe). “Full speed ahead. Plumb the depths of this cavern.”

“It is Christmas and my birthday all in one,” Dave says, leaning over to fish a bottle of lube out of the nightstand drawer. He slicks up the fingers of one hand and lightly rubs against your...you. Not going in, not yet, just stroking. It feels better than you expected.

You moan, your voice going hoarse with the threat of a caw at the end, and rock against his hand. You hook your legs over his to give him a little more room to maneuver. Somewhere to the side, Karkat trills. They both think you’re hot. Wild.

“So I’m not feeling any kind of clit or anything,” Dave says. His fingers are rubbing persistently at your front, which is nice enough you guess, but you liked it better when he was sort of...going at your whole crotch.

“Yeah. Don’t think I’ve got one of those,” you say, rolling your hips. Everything between your legs is slick and hot and aching and you want more. “You should put your fingers in.”

“Are you sure shit’s supposed to go in there?” Dave asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “I don’t know a lot about cloacas but don’t birds like...scissor or whatever?”

You roll your eyes. “It is my weird junk, I want something in, so would you _please_ deign to jam your fingers up there li-iiiike, oh, fuck.”

Dave’s got just the tip of his finger in you, but it’s _in_ you, like, actually _inside_ and you’re not sure how to process the simultaneous “oh god that’s weird” and “yesyesyes more please immediately.” Dave rubs his finger in tiny circles and you choke on a coo. Oh, fuck. Fuck, that’s so weird, fuck, it feels so good. You can feel your muscles clenching on him, relishing the drag and stretch of movement, and something deeper in you aches to be touched. It’s bizarre but it’s so much easier to enjoy it with someone else to focus on.

Then he pushes deeper and rubs up against something that actually _hurts,_ hurts in a holy-shit-get-it-out way. You squawk and grab his wrist.

Dave freezes. “Okay, I obviously just did something wrong.”

“No shit,” you say, unable to keep the shrill note out of your voice. You slowly let go of your vice grip on his arm.

“You wanna give me some directions while I scope this uncharted territory, yo?”

You think, cautiously reclining back on your elbows. “Yeah, dog. Aim, like, towards my stomach a little more. Wrong hole.”

“You’ve only got the one.” Dave adds a little more lube and kisses your knee, just above where the scaly patches on your legs start.

“Alright, smartass, then that branch of this particular cave has caved in. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”

Dave snickers and leans forward to give your stomach an apologetic kiss. Dude is feeling cuddly after crotchstabbing you with his finger. You might like it a little.

“You should see a doctor about that,” he says, before sliding his finger back in, the right way this time. You moan and fist your hands in the sheets.

_This_ is the feeling you were chasing every time you humped a pillow or rubbed yourself through your pants and couldn’t bring yourself to stick your hands down there. You roll your hips up to meet his hand and Dave swears quietly under his breath. He slides a hand up your chest, rubbing one nipple. Unfair, you’re only half-mammal anymore, how are those still so sensitive? You let out a series of desperate clicks and can’t even be embarrassed by it because Karkat answers them with his own. Shit, you almost forgot he was there.

“It’s like I’m fucking an aviary and the bug house all at once, what the hell,” Dave says quietly. Then, louder, “Is this good?”

“Yeah.” You pant. “More. Come on, I’m not made out of glass, put another one in.”

“Are you sure? Like, I can—”

Karkat speaks up, his voice underlaid with vocals that _almost not quite_ ping as familiar. It’s so hot. “Dave, do it.”

“Shit. Okay.” Dave nods and pushes another finger into you, letting you adjust to the stretch.

“God,” you slur, dropping your head back against the mattress, “god, yeah, that’s the shit. I—ah, ah!” Your voice breaks off into harsh caws as Dave fingerfucks you.

“You sound so fucking good,” he says, voice a little rough. He scissors his fingers and you caw again, louder. Fuck.

You crane your neck and lock eyes with Karkat. He’s looking at you intently, one hand down the front of his sweatpants, the other cupping his chin. He smiles, just a little hint of fang peeking out from under his lip, as you watch him watch you.

Dave doesn’t let you forget about him for long, though. The sensation is ramping up, up, up, leaving you arching in his hand and gasping for breath. Even so, it all feels so different from what you remember; you don’t realize how fucking close you are until he pushes another finger in, stretching you even further open. You come with a sharp noise, clenching down on Dave’s fingers so hard it almost hurts.

“Oh, oh my god,” you say, as soon as you have your voice back, “oh, jesus, it’s been so long…”

Dave pulls his fingers out of you, wiping the wet mess on your thigh. You’re expecting what you remember from jacking off, back when you had a dick. The oversensitivity, needing at least a few minutes before you can go again, you know, any kind of refractory period. You are not expecting the way you ache to have something in you again, almost immediately. You could totally go again. You want to.

“Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.”

Dave raises his eyebrows. “Not done?”

“Hell no.”

“Alright, shit yeah, round two is a go.” Dave hauls you forward and lifts your hips up to his mouth. Oh, shit. You squawk, startled, and hook your ankles behind his shoulders. He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod so hard you’re surprised your head doesn’t just fly off.

“Don’t mind my weird noises, dude, I just wasn’t expecting that but I am so down, please put your mouth on my junk.”

“He’s really fucking good at that,” Karkat says, the low rumble of a purr underneath his voice. Damn.

Dave puts his mouth on your junk. It’s hot and wet, and, oh, god. He doesn’t waste any time at all getting right to it, slipping his tongue inside and stroking right where you’re sensitive.

You throw an arm over your eyes and try not to hump his face. Try being the operative word. It’s just, ahh, it feels so good. It has been so fucking long, maybe you’re making up for lost time, here.

You’re babbling a hot load of nonsense, interspersed with caws and clicks and rattles, but in your defense you’re about to come for the second time after like forever without being able to get off at _all._ You think anyone would lose their composure a little in your situation. Dave pulls his tongue out and licks a broad stripe back-to-front. You’re about to start complaining and demanding he put his tongue back, but then he slips his fingers into you, all while still—your brain stutters on _eating you out—_ all while still licking you.

He slides his tongue in along, between his fingers, and it’s so fucking—you’re stretched to capacity, you can’t _._ You come again, screwing your eyes shut tight and panting open mouthed as it washes over you. Everything below your hips is tingling and oversensitive. You...kind of want more. God.

Dave lowers your hips and stretches his neck, grinning at you. You can feel his dick poking your thigh, smearing wetness along your skin. If his flush and heavy breathing is any judge, Dave’s not nearly as composed as he’s acting. You silently award yourself a point for getting to him too.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, hands skittering along your sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

You want him in you so fucking bad.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” you say.

“Cool,” Dave says. He leans over you and reaches around in the nightstand drawer before pulling out a condom. Oh, yeah, good plan. You. Probably can’t get pregnant (god you hope you can’t get pregnant), but you’re not sure you’d enjoy getting nutted in, all the same. Even if it’s your altself doing the nutting.

Dave sits back on his heels while he tears the foil open. You’d help, but you never had reason to use one back when you still _had_ a jimmy to wrap, so you settle for watching. It can’t be comfortable, he’s gone so long without touching it in favor of getting you off. You feel a little guilty. On the other hand, you don’t mind looking at physical evidence that he’s as turned on as you are. The head of his cock is flushed, drooling precome down the foreskin and shaft. He rolls the condom down, struggling with it for a second, before glancing back up and giving you a shaky smile.

“Ready for launch,” you say, spreading your legs a little wider for The Effect. Dave licks his lips and nods, slicking himself up with more lube. It’s a slip ‘n slide up in this bitch. Probably a good idea though, all things considered.

“Cleared for blastoff,” he says, taking himself in hand and lining up. He strokes himself against you, not pressing in yet, and you warble. “In three, two, one…”

The stretch is. A lot. It’s good, you think, but ohhhfuck it’s intense.

“Slow slow slowslowslow,” you say, your voice going shrill and hoarse again. Dave scrabbles for your hand, running his thumb in soothing circles against the scaly patches on your wrist.

“As slow as you want, you’re steering this ship, oh god.” He moves carefully, one hand in yours and the other on your hip, until he’s in you all the way. You fight down the urge to laugh at how fucking ridiculous this is. You can’t believe it fit.

“I can’t believe it fit,” you say, lifting your head to see. It’s surreal, seeing yourself stretched open around him like that. Experimentally, you clench your inner muscles, and you both groan in stereo.

Karkat swears quietly and off to the side you hear wet noises. Oh, fuck, that’s hot.

Dave drops his head, breathing hard. “Oh, god, oh my fucking god, you’re so tight, I’m gonna fffffff—I’m gonna bust a nut. DS. Davesprite. Can I move, I’m gonna die.”

“Yeah,” you say, although aren’t much more composed than he is. “Yeah, fuck, yeah, do it, just. Careful.”

Dave starts mumbling under his breath about slow and steady and tortoises and shit, and moves his hips. He starts out with tiny motions, giving you time to appreciate the slow drag of him inside you, before gradually picking up the pace. He’s warm and thick and solid, a weight inside you that’s as enjoyable as it is fucking bizarre. Every time you clench around him, Dave blurts a loud noise. It’s gratifying as hell.

You grab the back of Dave’s head and pull him into a kiss. He keeps speeding up in increments, until he’s snapping his hips into you hard enough to make you caw every time he bottoms out. You hook your ankles together behind his back and lift your hips to meet his.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasp as he brushes against a spot that sets all your nerves on fire. “Yes yes yes there, come on, give it to me.”

Dave grabs your hips, helping you match his thrusts, and presses sloppy kisses to the corner of your mouth, your jaw. “Oh god, you’re so fucking hot, talk to me. You feel so good, shit, I’m gonna—gonna come, ohfuck.”

You can talk to him, nooo fucking problem. “Not yet not yet not yet, Dave, Dave please, don’t stop, I’m so close.” Your hand tangles in his hair. Dave gasps sharply and bites your neck, and that’s it, you’re done for.

He keeps fucking you through the aftershocks while you pant and shake, right through the oversensitive period and back into feeling like maybe you could go again. Fuck, he feels good. You pinch his nipple and nip his earlobe once you’ve recovered, making little pleased noises into his ear.

“Oh god oh god oh fuck, ah-ahhh-hnn,”  Dave gasps and buries himself in you as he comes, going boneless on top of you. Just as you’re starting to squirm and try to fuck yourself against him in hopes of another round, he pulls out and flops over to the side. He has to hang his head nearly off the mattress to avoid your wings, so you tuck them in a little closer to yourself. No one can ever say you’re not considerate.

“I wasn’t done.” Hopefully you don’t sound nearly as whiny as you feel. He just got you off three fucking times and here you are bitching that he’s tired. God. Selfish much, Davesprite?

“Sorry,” Dave says, still out of breath, “I’m super done. I’m gonna need a minute or seven before I can even move again, bro, let alone get it up. That was like, a super nut. Your bird junk killed me, I’m dead.”

You snort. That’s fair, you guess, since he apparently doesn’t have freaky crow stamina or whatever the hell it is you’ve got now. However. There is someone in this room who hasn’t come yet. If he doesn’t just want to hang out in voyerland or whatever.

You look at Karkat, squashing the last of your nervousness into submission under the weight of your boner. “Are you still cool with getting involved?”

He raises his eyebrows. “If you are.”

Hell yeah. You motion for him to get on the bed and glance over at Dave, who’s propped himself up on one elbow to watch you both. Karkat settles between your legs, the mattress dipping with his added weight, and pulls down his sweatpants. He’s not wearing underwear, holy shit. You can see his whole business.

“Oh, fucking hot,” Dave says.

You waggle your eyebrows to cover up the fact that you’re blushing. “Dave, shut up and get the fuck out, I’m gonna fuck your wife now.”

Karkat nips your thigh. “Keep it up and you’re not gonna fuck anything.”

Noted. You raise two fingers to your forehead in a mock-salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Karkat snorts. “Okay, how do you want to do this?”

You shrug. “Uh. I dunno, whatever.” His dick is red and _wiggling_ now that it’s out of its cotton prison, and you’re sure that it’d feel great in your junk. You have to get them acquainted. “Can I hop on that dong?”

“You should definitely hop on that dong,” Dave says. “Ten out of ten. Best alien wingwong.”

Karkat blushes and flips Dave off, but keeps his attention on you. “If that’s what you want, I think I can manage that.” He gives you a little nervous grin and comes up beside you. “Come here?”

Aw yeah. Your v-card is getting punched like a million times, holy shit. You sit up and straddle Karkat’s thighs, a drop of wetness sliding down your thigh with the movement. Karkat rests his hands on your hips, not holding you in place, just helping you get your balance. Your legs are spread wide, bracketing his thighs like this, and you can see Karkat looking.

His bulge is curling against his stomach, leaving a trail of translucent red goo on the sweater he’s still wearing. You kind of want to lick it, if licking a sweater wouldn’t be basically the nastiest thing ever. Karkat doesn’t move to actually put his dong inside you, though. He just. Looks.

“Hey,” he says, a tiny smile on his face. You pause for a second, remembering you have a face and should probably make, like, expressions and shit, and smile back.

Karkat’s slides his hands up your sides, reaching back and scritching the feathers between your shoulder blades. You drop your head and make a raspy noise, reaching down for Karkat’s...bulge? You’re pretty sure it’s called a bulge.

He glares at you, despite the way he’s chattering and rolling his hips up into your hands. It’s not very effective.

“Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?” Karkat grumbles, but he doesn’t sound serious. Not with he way his breath is going raspy and off-rhythm with his weird bug noises. He chirps at you.

You make a rattling noise back at him because you can’t help it, and line his bulge up with your junk.

“If you wanted _fore_ play,” you say, a little breathier than you’d like, “you shoulda got to me ‘fore Dave did.”

Karkat rolls his eyes and helps guide you down onto him. It’s at once more challenging and easier than getting Dave inside you. His bulge is wiggling around, smearing pink pre on your thighs, and that makes aiming a bit of a _unique challenge._ But once it brushes up against your junk it seems to figure shit out pretty quickly, pushing inside you in a slick motion. You and Karkat moan in unison. Oh, fuck.

“Oh, _fuuuuck,”_ you moan, rolling your hips experimentally. “Shit, that’s good.”

Karkat’s warm, warmer than Dave, and you can feel every movement inside you. He doesn’t even need to thrust in and out, his dick is lashing around of its own accord, hitting everywhere you’re sensitive. Holy shit. Trolls win the evolutionary lottery.

“I am never getting fucked with anything else ever again, oh my god.” You’re breathing hard, and Karkat’s still carding his hands through your wings, which isn’t exactly helping on the composure front. “It’s like a magic worm.”

Karkat arches one eyebrow. He’s unfairly composed for someone balls-deep in bird pussy. Bussy. Or, like, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have balls, but. Metaphorical balls.

“I’m revoking your dirty talk license,” he says, reaching up with one hand to pull you into a kiss.

It’s different than kissing Dave. Which, fucking duh, Davesprite, but that’s one of the first things you notice. He’s...purring? into your mouth, and his weird noises are sparking more of your own freaky sounds in response. Karkat knows what to do with his teeth, too, shit. He bites your bottom lip, just hard enough to make you groan and chatter, and licks into your mouth.

You pull back after a few moments, your lips swollen and tingling, and grin at him.

“God damn,” you say.

Karkat snorts and pinches your nipple, smirking at your raspy noise. In revenge, you clench around him, savoring the way he feels inside you and how his eyes cross a little bit. You slip your hands up his shirt, brushing against these little curved ridges on his sides, below his ribs.

“Do that again,” Karkat gasps, his bulge lashing inside you. You do it again, pressing on those ridges deliberately this time. He fucking _trills._ Holy shit.

“I am the king of sex,” you say, more than a little smug. Off to the side, Dave snickers.

Then Karkat’s bulge brushes up against a spot that makes your legs buckle and your head drop. Karkat can apparently control the literal trouser snake, and focuses on that spot like he thinks he’s going to win a fucking prize. He might actually be the king of sex, jesus dick.

“Oh, shit, fuck, fuck yes, god,” you’re panting now, rolling your hips counterpoint to Karkat’s coiling motions. It’s so weird, it’s not at all like the thrusting you’d expect. It might be the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you. Sorry, Dave.

“Yeah, is that good? Do you like that? Shit.” Karkat pulls you close against him and presses kisses along your chest, pausing to mouth at your nipples. He’s careful with his teeth, only ever nipping you with the barest hint of fang.

“It is, yeah, I-I think I’m gonna come again, jesus christ.” You bury your face in Karkat’s hair to muffle your noises.

You’re expecting Karkat to laugh, or to say something like _‘already? Goddamn, you’ve got a shorter fuse than I expected’_ or whatever, but he doesn’t. Expect the unexpected fucking apparently, because Karkat just purrs and grabs your ass like he thinks he can pull you closer than you are.

“Good.” He sucks on your neck, nipping at marks Dave left earlier. You definitely don’t whimper. “Fuck yes, I want to make you come. Want you to feel good.”

You choke on a moan. He’s not even talking all that _dirty_ to you. You have no fucking idea why this suddenly has you shuddering from head to toe, hanging on to Karkat’s shoulders for dear life.

“Well, uh, keep it up and you’re g-gonna, oh _fuck._ Fuck, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop.”

He kisses you again, swallowing your caws and answering them with his own chirps. His bulge is curling in relentless motion, hitting everywhere you’re sensitive without pause. There’s no in and out, just endlessly ramping you up. You’re swearing and mumbling encouragements, sweat dripping down your back.

This orgasm doesn’t hit you as suddenly as the others. The buildup is more gradual but no less intense, leaving you feeling molten inside. You have been fucked into a puddle of goo. ...Okay, wow, yeah, you’re off your metaphor game. In your defense, though: afterglow brain. You can’t be blamed for your shitty analogies.

“Don’t stop,” you manage to slur out. Karkat’s not done yet; you can still feel him lashing inside you, and you kind of want to see how far you can push yourself.

“No fucking problem.” Karkat starts shifting positions, and you’re boneless enough to go along with it. It’s kind of nice, anyway, letting him handle shit. You feel taken care of, and manage to squash most of your guilt about that. Karkat likes taking care of people, you’re totally playing into his fetish. The fact that you might also be into it is purely coincidence.

He lays you flat on your back, somehow managing to stay inside of you thanks to the magic of wiggle dick, and settles on top of you. His weight is heavy on your hips, enough that you know it’s gonna hurt if he stays there too long, but right now you kind of like it. You like how your wings are crushed against the mattress less, and sit up on your elbows.

“Is this okay?”

“Super okay, dude.” You’re not exactly up to your normal eloquence, but you can manage basic communication. Real caveman-level shit. You Davesprite, he Karkat, he fuck you until you’re making faces straight out of bad hentai. Or, uh, something like that.

Karkat kisses your jaw and looks past you, grinning. You don’t realize what he’s looking at until you feel Dave settling his weight behind you, between your wings.

“Hey,” Dave says, kissing your neck. You take advantage of this new position and rest your weight against him, so you don’t have to keep holding yourself up.

“You lookin’ to get back in on this?”

“Nah, least not looking to put my donger anywhere.” He runs his hands over your chest, down your hips, until he’s brushing his fingers along where you’re spread around Karkat’s bulge. “You’re both just super fucking hot.”

You shiver and Karkat chirps. They both lean forward, sandwiching you between them like the weirdest oreo ever, until their lips meet above your head. It’s kind of freaky to watch someone suck face when it’s your face, but on the other hand it’s super fucking hot. They move together with practiced ease, Dave’s fingertips going right for these spots on Karkat’s hornbeds that make him shiver and rock up harder against you. You’re not left out, either; Karkat keeps touching you, his claws dragging just lightly down your skin, and his bulge curling in that way that’s driving you crazy. Dave leaves one hand free to stroke your hair, the downy feathers in there, your wings. It’s hot and it’s sweaty and you’re squished between two other dudes, but it’s… It’s really nice. You feel wanted.

You reach up to play with those patches of raised chitin on Karkat’s sides. When you rub them, Karkat breaks the kiss to moan and look down at you with the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen. (If you made an ahegao joke would he bite you? Hm. Probably.)

Dave lets go of Karkat’s horns in favor of reaching down to cup your jaw. He’s tugging your chin just lightly, just suggesting. You decide to go along with the suggestion, tilting your head up and towards him until your lips meet.

A rattling noise escapes your throat when he bites your bottom lip and slides one hand down your chest. Karkat makes a sound like he’s been stepped on and rolls his hips like he thinks he can fuck you any harder than he already is.

Dave hums into your mouth, pleased, and you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair and keep him right where he is, thank you very fucking much. Karkat’s bulge is going nuts down there as he rocks his hips against you in fitful starts and stops. You feel electric, you can’t stop moaning. It’s probably not going to win you any awards for best kisser, but Dave doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, god,” Karkat gasps, trilling and chirping helplessly. His hands are everywhere. “Oh, fuck, you--you’re both so hot. Shit, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“You can,” Dave hums, licking the shell of your ear. “C’mon, babe, come for us. God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

You have no clue how they both just _say_ shit like that, but it’s definitely doing it for you. And you can’t help but agree; Karkat is sexy as fuck. Hot and spicy. Or, uh, something; you’re not exactly coherent and composed, here.

Karkat makes an absolutely _wrecked_ noise, grabbing your hips and hauling you flush against him. You gasp, drumming your heels against his back, as his bulge sort of...curls up on itself. He’s coming, you realize. He’s coming a _lot,_ holy shit, that explains a ton of jokes you didn’t get before. You definitely don’t squawk at all in alarm.

Dave grabs a bucket from...somewhere, you’re a little occupied, okay. He somehow manages to get it between Karkat’s legs just in time, so the copious amounts of trolljizz have somewhere to go that’s not _in you._

“You so did not just one-man-bukkake my bird cooch,” you say, when Karkat’s done.

“He so totally did just, though,” Dave replies, setting the bucket on the floor.

Karkat gives you both an unimpressed look. “Shut up,” he mutters, sort of rubbing at his crotch with his palm until his slug junk disappears back into wherever it came from. Goodbye, wonder dong, you will be missed.

He pauses, before looking at you with an assessing sort of expression. Then his fingers drift between your legs again, lightly stroking where you’re still swollen and sensitive. You’re not even sure if you _can_ come again, but suddenly you want to try.

“Aw, fuck yeah, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dave murmurs approvingly.

The praise is seriously doing things to you. It’s the dumbest thing ever to be turned on by, probably, but every time one of them says you’re doing well it goes straight to your junk. You fist your hands in the sheets and moan, rocking up against Karkat’s hand. He’s probably noticed, too, judging by the way he’s looking at you like a lightbulb just came on. You’re not sure if you should be excited or embarrassed about that.

“I don’t think you came,” Karkat says. His tone is low, contemplative. He’s still stroking you, smearing the wetness there around, but never dipping his fingers inside. You try to wiggle forward and he just pulls his hand back, the bastard.

“I definitely came,” you tell him, because you’re an asshole and you can’t resist the opportunity to be a little shit.

He arches one eyebrow at you and stills his fingers entirely. Behind your back, Dave laughs quietly, exhaling puffs of warm air against your neck.

“But, uh, not this time,” you say hastily, spreading your legs in what you hope is a sexy way. “I mean. If you wanted to maybe finish the job.”

Karkat smirks. “Good.”

You can’t suppress the little shiver that runs through you at the praise. They both _definitely_ noticed, they had to. You just...it feels good, okay, to know you’re not fucking this up. That you’re doing well, that they like it, that they want you around.

Dave kisses your neck, setting to work leaving more marks. While he’s doing that, Karkat bends down and nips your inner thighs, grinning when you gasp and kick your feet. He pushes two fingers into you and grins even wider when you warble.

You’re stupidly oversensitive; just him scissoring his fingers has you gasping for breath. Karkat crooks his fingers and presses messy kisses where you’re spread open around him. Every point of contact between the three of you feels like it’s on fire. Your arms are shaking.

“That’s it,” Karkat purrs, his voice thick with those weird troll noises, “fuck, you look good like this. Is this good?”

You nod. You can’t think. His fingers are shorter than Dave’s, but they’re _thick,_ and every time he moves them, your exhausted nerves light up. You might actually fucking come again, holy shit.

You’re making all sorts of embarrassing noises, but you’re _way_ too far gone to give a shit. Karkat and Dave both seem to like it, anyway, if their pleased hums and whispered encouragements are anything to go by. Hell yeah.

Karkat manages to work a third finger into you, spreading you even further open, and you gasp, desperately working your hips against his hand. Fuck. Fuck, you’re so close, your brain is shorting out. You feel like you’re on fire. Distantly, you register that Karkat’s talking to you.

“--Yeah, there you go. You’re going so well, Davesprite. I’ve got you, come on, come for me, you gorgeous bastard.”

That’s what does it. You caw once, hoarsely, and your brain dissolves into white noise.

 

* * *

 

When you come to a few minutes later, it’s to someone--Dave--gently cleaning you up with a cool, damp washcloth between your legs. Karkat has moved up on the bed and is carding his fingers through your hair.

“Was that hand the one just in my junk,” you manage, eventually. Dave bursts into laughter and even Karkat can’t help smiling a little.

“No, fuck you,” he says sweetly. “Do you need anything?”

“A nap,” you say. When Karkat glares at you, you clear your throat. “Uh, a snack would be cool I guess? I just burned hella calories. I mean, if that’s not like, an issue, I don’t want to impose or nothing.”

“Dude, don’t even worry, I’m pretty sure Karkat gets some kind of weird platonic boner from taking care of people. ‘Sides, we kind of like you, man. Can’t have you wasting away on us.”

“Shut the fuck up, bulge-for-brains.” Karkat stands up and pulls on his sweatpants, leaning over to kiss Dave briefly on the lips before looking back at you. “I’ll be right back with something to eat.”

“Aw, don’t I get a kiss too?” You ask, because you are an asshole and an idiot with no filter.

Karkat looks at you like you’re a puzzle he has to solve. You’re about to backtrack, go on some ramble about how you need to learn when to shut the fuck up and be normal, when he kisses you. It’s exceedingly gentle, just the lightest press of lips against yours. It lingers a little too long for a joke, and the way he strokes your cheek afterward definitely doesn’t feel ironic. You’re blushing furiously.

“Now, for real,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”

Dave looks at you and waggles his eyebrows once Karkat leaves.

“Are cuddles on the table or nah?”

You shrug, trying not to look as eager as you feel. “That’d be cool, I guess.”

Dave crawls up on the bed and you roll around until you’re on top of him in a tangle of limbs. It’s sweaty. It’s gross. You’re sticking to each other in weird places. It’s kind of perfect. He wraps his arms around you and buries his fingers in the feathers between your wings, and you press your face into the crook of his neck.

You both eventually pry yourselves apart when Karkat comes back with granola bars and bottled water. In a stunning twist that surprises absolutely no one, you’re hungrier than both of them, so they snuggle up while you demolish three granola bars and a bottle of water.

Looking at them both curled up together...you don’t want to impose, or like, assume. And they probably don’t want you inserting yourself into their cuddle time, anyway. So you draw your wings in against yourself and try to get comfortable off to the side.

“Hey,” Karkat says, “come here, asshole.”

“Yeah.” Dave pokes you in the back of the leg with his toe. “I wasn’t done with our cuddle sesh, so get in the middle, dude. Gimme that sweet body heat.”

“Oh. Uh, okay.” You sit up and worm your way in between them, trying not to look as delighted as you feel. It takes some maneuvering, but you eventually end up on your stomach with your wings spread out across both of them. Dave tucks an arm over you and kisses your neck. Karkat pulls blankets up from somewhere and covers you all up. You wonder if he knows he’s purring.

“You know,” Karkat mumbles against your skin, “we should do this again. Maybe with an actual fucking date next time, even.”

As you start to drift off, you can feel yourself smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> So I said to myself "yeah, I'll write a short oneshot starring the three wordiest assholes in Homestuck, what could go wrong?"  
> Eleven thousand words and however many months later, here we are.


End file.
